


Everything and then Nothing

by galaxy_of_pi



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: AU, Little bit of blood, M/M, The Jacket, There is death, bananas are evil, but everything that i write is kinda sad so no surprises there, curt's jacket is owen's jacket, its sad, one step ahead, spies never die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxy_of_pi/pseuds/galaxy_of_pi
Summary: He had once thought that knowing Owen was dead and gone, and that it was his fault would be the worst thing he had to live with.He never would have thought that four years after he lost the love of his life, his love would return, but hate him.Looking into Owen’s eyes, eyes that had once been filled with love and adoration, that he could stare into for hours, that had become his favorite color, now twisted with hatred was perhaps the worst thing he had ever seen.
Relationships: Owen Carvour & Agent Curt Mega, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Everything and then Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly au at the end, hope you enjoy!  
> I'd love to hear thoughts and reactions in the comments!!

He had once thought that knowing Owen was dead and gone, and that it was his fault would be the worst thing he had to live with.

He never would have thought that four years after he lost the love of his life, his love would return, but hate him. 

Looking into Owen’s eyes, eyes that had once been filled with love and adoration, that he could stare into for hours, that had become his favorite color, now twisted with hatred was perhaps the worst thing he had ever seen.

He chased after Owen, the jab about him hanging out with his “new friends” stinging despite his best efforts. He lined up his gun as he chased him through the streets, then across the water, but even when his shot lined up, he knew he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t live with himself if he killed Owen, no matter how twisted and deranged his former lover had become.

Watching him spinning the staff, still impressive and graceful after all these years, he wondered if the lack of morals that this new Owen had would bother him. Maybe, it was still him, still the Owen he knew, just buried under layers of hurt and pain. 

Curt took a deep breath, blocking Owen’s swings with the staff, and staring desperately at Owen, trying to see what his endgame was. Would he really kill him?  _ No.  _ Curt reassured himself.  _ We’ll get through this, because we always have.  _ He felt his ring on a chain around his neck, heavy and warm and wondered if Owen still wore his. He looked for the metal chain, but didn’t see anything and felt his heart sink.

He fought Owen, fending off sword strikes and parrying, but couldn’t make himself attack. Something held him back.

Curt faltered, pulling back as an idea struck. Owen was fine attacking him, that much was obvious, and he pushed away the nausea that had settled in his stomach at the thought that Owen probably enjoyed it, relished the idea of him in pain.

_ To show you the horror of staying alive. _

Curt took a deep breath, refusing to think about the implications of what that meant, and dropped his guard. In his heart, he knew what would happen, but the fantasies he had daydreamed about how Owen would give up Chimera for him and they could live together, free of spies and agencies and secrets and just be themselves took over.

He knew what would happen but he felt his already fragile heart shatter into pieces as Owen took the opportunity, slashing his sword at Curt, and catching his arm and side, sending him staggering back.

The sharp burning pain of the cut, not quite deep enough to be fatal but dangerous enough that he knew he would bleed out without treatment could never compare to the burning pain in his heart, the stinging in his eyes and the dull ringing as he realized that Owen, his Owen, was gone. Whatever remained wasn’t the man he had fallen in love with.

Curt stared up at Owen, standing on the top of the stairs. His jacket-- _ Owen’s jacket, _ a traitorous voice in his head whispered-- was slick with blood, and he felt vaguely dizzy, but he couldn’t tell if it was because he was staring up at his ex-lover returned to kill him, or if it was because he was minutes away from collapsing from blood loss.

He heard Owen’s voice, echoing as if from a long distance away, as all of his senses started becoming fuzzy. His determination to destroy Chimera, meet up with Tatiana and return to the Agency all started to fade away. Nothing mattered except for Owen. And if he could just make him see that all he cared about was Owen, that he would do anything for him, then maybe--

Curt saw the gun, raised to his head, and stared at him. It would only be fair for Owen to kill him. After all, Curt himself had abandoned him to pain and suffering; a quick death would be a gift. 

Death had never been far from his mind over the past four years. Ever since he saw Owen fall, saw the terror in his eyes as his hand slipped past Curt’s, as he fell from the stairway to the unforgiving concrete below, all he had seen was death. Every time he closed his eyes, turned the corner, saw someone with the same golden brown eyes as Owen, the same style of jacket, the same charming flirtatious comments. He had studiously avoided anything British, as the first time he heard someone say “love” since Owen’s fall had given him a panic attack. He had envisioned all the possible ways he could die, whether he became a spy again or not, but never once did he think it would end like this. And even though he had spent the last four years waiting for death to find him, now that he was staring at it, he knew that he couldn’t just take his hand, leave with him. Curt was a spy, and he had a job to do.

Curt spun around, shooting Owen’s gun out of his hand and stepping forwards, his eyes fixed on Owen’s as he held his gun up to his former lover’s head. 

“Killing me won’t take the system offline, so what are you doing?”

Curt took a deep breath. One more shot, and his old life was over. “Taking your advice.”

As the shot rang out and Owen fell back, Curt felt a deep burning pain in his chest, and looked down, seeing the dagger buried there. The world swam and he fell back, collapsing onto the stairway. 

He hadn’t realized the irony when he had thought that one more shot would end his life. He knew he was dying, that this time, neither of them would evade it.

He saw Owen lying next to him, his eyes no longer full of life and love, but empty, mocking. 

_ Always end on a high note. _

He saw the ring that Owen had, still on a chain around his neck, no longer tucked under his shirt and out of sight. He saw the blood on his face, the golden brown eyes, the silky hair spread across the step where he had fallen.

He saw everything, every thing that he had done wrong that had brought them to this, to Owen dead on the floor and him seconds from death. He saw the hate that Owen had for him, love that had been warped and twisted until it was charred and ruined beyond repair. 

He saw everything, and then, he saw nothing at all. 

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
